


Surrounded by idiots

by Pingviini



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Affectionate Insults, Bad Jokes, Dialogue Heavy, Drax Being Drax, Gen, Humor, Insults, No Plot/Plotless, Quill's ego needs to be fed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-26
Updated: 2019-05-26
Packaged: 2020-03-19 23:22:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18980446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pingviini/pseuds/Pingviini
Summary: ...or just one of them?"But not Drax, he wasn’t most people. In fact, Peter had concluded the man shared more qualities with an asteroid with googly eyes than with any conscious being. Both big and ugly brainless chunks just floating around in space, at the ready to sweep out unsuspecting victims. The only difference was that Drax was inside a space ship."





	Surrounded by idiots

**Author's Note:**

> Howdy ho hi! Once upon a time I was really bored at work and wrote this. 
> 
> Please note that English isn't my first language so mind the mistakes, do feel free to correct me.
> 
> without further ado, enjoy this - whatever this is - and thank you for reading!

“A formal party? A shame I didn't pack any smart clothes with me,” Peter Quill spoke somewhat absentmindedly while rummaging around the deck’s cupboards and drawers. He was pretty sure he had last seen his blaster somewhere in there.

Drax squinted his eyes to Quill's back and Gamora could tell he was about to ask something stupid.

“Back where you come from clothes can be intelligent?“ Drax spoke up after letting the woman hold her breath long enough.

Peter froze in mid-motion, about to discard a pair of used socks to the pile he had managed to create on the floor during his search. He turned around to eyeball the blue man incredulously for so many Missisippis it would’ve surely been more than enough to make many if not even most people highly uncomfortable. But not Drax, he wasn’t most people. In fact, Peter had concluded the man shared more qualities with an asteroid with googly eyes than with any conscious being. Both big and ugly chunks just floating around space, at the ready to sweep out unsuspecting victims. The only difference was that Drax was inside a space ship.  
But then again, he couldn’t really blame Drax for the way he had been raised.

Did I write _couldn’_ t? – I meant _shouldn’t_ but he totally did and had a blast doing it.

Yondu hadn’t exactly sat him down to memorize Shakespeare between teaching him to steal and threatening to eat him either but he had turned out just fine, right?

“Sure, Drax. My favourite pair of sneakers went to a better school than me so I had to walk barefoot every day,” he snorted stupidly. Although, he could’ve given Drax the benefit of the doubt and thought that the man did understand the term but also wondered if it could be used literally on earth. He could’ve, sure, but then again, he had also just compared the man to a rock.

A potentially dangerous big rock, but a rock all the same.

“But why would you need your clothes to be smart? What's the purpose?“

Sometimes Quill had to wonder how Drax’s brain worked because Drax was awfully reluctant on trusting Quill’s orders in hectic situations or him telling the truth but seemed to swallow every line of bullshit Peter ever spat his way completely without chewing. Peter also spent a second considering whether replying anything in general would make the man less puzzled. Probably not. He might as well go all the way, not like he had anything better to do. “So that if you're too dumb you get to still go to college because even though clothes can be smart, they don't have a spine.”

“Kinda like you Quill. Except for the smart part,” Rocket said appearing on deck seizing opposite to Quill peering at him over the table that was almost as tall as the creature himself. A pleased grin was painting his furry features, sharp yellowish teeth exposed.

“I am groot,” Groot piped up, which made the raccoon exhale loudly and pinch the bridge of his nose.

“Yes, I'm aware that humans have spines. That was the joke dumb ass,” Rocket muttered. 

“Hey, fuck you, trash panda,” Peter Quill retorted pointing at the smaller one accusingly with the dirty pair of socks. “You're the one to talk. The only thing more flexible than your spine is your morals.”

The words left Groot looking very contemplative as its sharp brown eyes travelled up and down Rocket’s back.

“You say it like it would be a bad thing. Altruism doesn’t really pay the bills now, does it Quill? I can’t really kill anyone by shooting them with heartfelt thank yous or fill my stomach with tears of joy,” Rocket replies in a snarky manner, pleasantly unaware of Groot measuring the length of his back with twigs the humanoid had pulled out from his side. The expression on the wooden face genuinely concerned.

“ _You say_ _that_ and still feed on my misery,” Peter shoots back squinting his eyes, partly because he wanted to grill Rocket with a piercing look and partly because the smell of the stiff dirty socks had finally made itself known to his nose.

“But that’s the cherry on top of a cake. I don’t want no cherries; I want the cake. The cherry is there just to look pretty,” the raccoon said confidently folding his arms on his chest and leaning his weight on his left leg. The end of his fluffy tail also switching sides with his movement.

And to Peter’s surprise it was Gamora who hummed: “Kind of like you, Quill.”

Her green face staying almost deadpan even as Rocket and Drax burst out laughing. Meanwhile Peter had difficulty deciding whether he was more flattered or offended. A ghost of a smile on her lips suggested she was most likely joking, which just made Quill’s decision process that much harder.

 “What’s a college?“ Drax asked after he had snapped out of his giggling fit very abruptly. And about two seconds after Quill had came to the conclusion, he was absolutely more flattered than offended. His ego was like its own entity and very practised in cherry-picking. A monster with a never-ending hunger that had never heard about the five second rule or expiration dates.

 “Nothing that concerns you bunch,” Quill said offering his words with an angelic smile that was anything but genuine.

 "I am groot.”

 “Broken? Why would my back be broken?” Rocket huffed furrowing his brows. 

_Upon meeting Iron Man_

“Ah, now I understand what Quill meant,” Drax exclaimed finally ending the silence they had been engulfed in for a while. “Did you get to go to college even though your clothes can stand without you in them?”

 Quill sucked his lips into his mouth biting them with his teeth in order to keep a hold to what little self-control he had left to refrain from laughing mockingly. Not that he wanted to be polite but it would’ve surely broken the tension he wished to live and breathe for as long as he possibly could. Tony’s jaw looked to be on the verge of dropping as he blinked a few times as if to make sure the blue alien in front of him was really there.

“Excuse me? Are _you_ doubting my intelligence Papa Smurf?”

“Yes. And I’m also wondering if your clothes are smart because Quill’s are absolutely useless,” Drax replied in all earnest and really, Peter just wanted to kiss him. His questioning nature did certainly have its charm.  

 “Hey, stick to making fun of the tin can,” Quill said trying to act insulted but, honestly, he was way too pleased with the incredulous look on Tony Stark’s face to actually feel it.

 “I am groot,” Groot said leaning a bit closer to Rocket who opens his furry arms to his sides groaning:

 “How would I know if papasmurfs have a spine? We've never seen one.”


End file.
